


i'll keep your brittle heart warm

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, Queerness in the Wizarding World, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 10:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30138141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Harry had had a plan for his life. He hadn't counted on Bill Weasley.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Bill Weasley, Hermione Granger/Luna Lovegood (mentioned)
Kudos: 15
Collections: Worldbuilding Exchange 2021





	i'll keep your brittle heart warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fabulous_but_evil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabulous_but_evil/gifts).



> Thank you for the wonderful prompt, fabulous_but_evil! I chose to focus on queerness in the magical world. I really hope you like it - I had a blast writing it!

Harry James Potter was thoroughly fucked. And not in a good way. Well. He looked at the sleeping redhead next to him. In good and bad ways.

Mind you, if you’d told him eleven years ago he’d be waking up in Bill Weasley’s bed after a night of fantastic sex? He’d have laughed in your face.

Then again, eleven years ago the world had been a different place and he’d been a different person, a lost, deeply damaged kid with no idea what to do now he’d done what he’d been raised to do. It had been Bill who’d suggested he get away for a while, who’d gently pointed out that the life he’d lived until then had been no kind of life at all, who’d helped him settle things with the goblins and all but shoved him into the International Portkey Office.

And likely saved his life.

Harry didn’t know what he’d have done if he’d stayed in England. Gone into the Aurory, probably, married Ginny because she was there, and probably kicked the cauldron before he was thirty. Instead, he’d travelled, first across Europe, then to India, where he’d reconnected with distant cousins, dropped in on Hermione in Australia, made his way around to the New World (and it had blown his mind, how differently the various Native nations that made up the magical United States saw magic) and parts of Africa. Along the way, he’d collected a few scars, made a lot of good memories, even seen a therapist or two. 

When he’d finally come back to England a year ago, Bill - who he’d stayed in touch with, off and on, over the years - had just taken a one-year sabbatical to teach part-time at the Auror Academy while working on his Master’s thesis - had happened to be looking for a place, and did Harry want to split a flat? Harry absolutely did.

Which was one of the reasons he was so thoroughly fucked. 

Because up until then, he’d only known Bill as his best friend’s older brother, wicked cool Bill with the fang earring and the job straight out of an adventure novel, but once they started living together? Harry got to know him as a friend and a person. He got to know that Bill was really a massive dork who happened to have a really cool job, that he loved (and was excellent at) cooking but a really terrible singer. He learned that Bill could be a cranky bastard around the full moon but also thoughtful enough to check in on their elderly neighbour every few days. He learned that Bill practically had an allergy to shirts when he was at home. He learned that Bill was not only brilliant and handsome, but kind and funny and unexpectedly sweet, and Harry was head over heels in love with him. 

All of that would have been bad enough, but then a couple of months in, Harry learned that Bill wasn’t straight.

They’d been relaxing in the living room with drinks one evening, chatting about some random thing Harry didn’t even remember, when it had come up.

“So, yeah, my ex-boyfriend,” Bill had said, gesturing with his Butterbeer, and Harry’s brain had just ground to a halt. Bill wasn’t - couldn’t be - Harry must have misheard. 

“Wait, ex-boyfriend?” Because of course Harry’s mouth had always been several yards ahead of his brain, why should things be any different now? 

Bill, for his part, had stared at Harry in confusion. “Yeah, Danny. My ex-boyfriend.”

Harry had shaken his head. “You mentioned your ex Dani, I thought ex-girlfriend. I… it’s okay?” He couldn’t wrap his mind around how casual Bill was about the whole thing. 

Bill had blinked, then groaned. “Right. Raised by Muggles, with all the attendant nonsense. So, Harry. Magical Britain is fucked up about a lot of things, but that isn’t one of them. Blokes can be with blokes, girls can be with girls. Danny and I actually got a lot more grief for that he’s Muggleborn and I’m ‘Sacred’” he made scare quotes, “than we ever did for that we’re both blokes. Hell, Mum still gives me grief about not having stayed with him.” 

Harry had only been able to stare. “That’s… not how it is in the Muggle world. At all.”

Bill had nodded. “I know. But. We don’t have the Church feeding us that homophobic shite, thank Merlin. Had so many arguments with Danny’s parents about that one…” He’d shaken his head. “But anyway. Point is. You can be with whoever you like. Well. Not a Death Eater, obviously. But somebody of the same gender? Nobody will care.” He’d grinned. “Someone catch your eye?”

Harry hadn’t responded, too caught up in the memories flooding his mind, seeing them in an entirely different light. Eventually, he’d groaned, and thumped his head against the wall. “Fuck. I had the worst crush on Malfoy.”

Bill had burst out laughing. “And you just now realised? Ron complained in every single one of his letters to me, it was hilarious.” 

Harry had stared. “But… he didn’t say anything!” 

“This is Ron we’re talking about,” Bill had reminded him. “He’d rather drink Bubotuber pus than deal with emotions. Plus I think his logic was that as long as he didn’t make you acknowledge it, you wouldn’t actually go out and date Malfoy.”

Harry had made a face. “Ewww, no, gross. I’m going to chalk my crush up to teenage stupidity and erase it from my memory.” He’d blinked as something had occurred to him. “But Bill, wait, you were married to Fleur, how can you be gay?” 

To Harry’s surprise, Bill had laughed. “I’m not gay, Harry. I’m bisexual.” 

“Wait, that’s a real thing? Uncle Vernon always said that - well, not gonna say it - were just confused.” Harry had said, his nose scrunched in confusion. 

Bill had groaned. “Harry. I think we can safely consider anything out of your uncle’s mouth dragonshite? Bi people aren’t confused, we really do happen to like men and women. Some like one gender more, others - like me - are equal opportunity.” 

“Wow,” Harry had murmured, his mind spinning. “I… need to think.”

Bill had clapped him on the shoulder sympathetically. “You’ll be fine, kiddo. I’m here if you need to talk, okay?” 

That had been the end of it. Nothing had really changed between them, except occasionally Bill would point out a book in his shelves that happened to have a gay romance. Well, there had been the time The Young Wizard’s Guide To Sex had shown up on Harry’s bedside table and he hadn’t been able to look Bill in the eye for a week, but the older man hadn’t said anything, and Harry had left a trayful of his favourite double chocolate brownies by his door and resolved to forget about the whole thing.

Which turned out to be a lot easier said than done. Before? Harry had been able to shove his feelings in a box, remind himself that no matter what his feelings were, Bill was straight and that was that. Him being bisexual… didn’t really change things, because it was obvious he thought of Harry as another little brother, but it did give Harry’s useless, traitorous heart a little bit of hope. Especially when Bill did things like ask if Harry wanted to join him and some friends when they went to the club.

“There are gay clubs in magical Britain?” Harry had asked, both surprised and, despite himself a little excited. 

Bill had laughed. “Of course, Harry. We’re not so small a population there aren’t a couple. And you’re welcome to come along, if you’d like, but no pressure, kiddo.” 

Kiddo. Right. That there was an Aguamenti to the face, the reminder that Bill thought of him as a little brother. Harry had initially planned to spend the evening reading - he’d picked up the habit on his travels - but suddenly? The idea of getting out of the flat, finding someone, anyone, who could distract him from the kind handsome definitely unavailable man in front of him sounded like the best idea ever.

“Yeah, okay,” he’d found himself saying, and was rewarded with that heart-stopping grin. 

The club had been great - dim lighting and subtle luxury, music even Harry could dance to playing at a volume that didn’t make him want to reach for earmuffs. He’d made small talk with Bill’s friends before slipping off to find someone, not wanting to see Bill finally get picked up by one of the many handsome men who’d been flirting with him. 

To Harry’s surprise, he’d wound up actually enjoying himself; he was a lot more graceful than he’d been at the Yule Ball (and he still owed Parvati an apology for that) and the music was the kind you could move to. It had helped that not very much later, a tall handsome (not as handsome as Bill) man with grey (not blue) eyes had moved into his orbit. They’d danced and Kieran had bought him a drink and laughed at Harry’s jokes and never looked once at his scar and when he’d asked if Harry wanted to go home with him Harry had said yes with only the slightest of mixed feelings. 

And so it had gone, for several months afterward; Harry would go to the club, sometimes with Bill (but never in the way he wanted to), sometimes by himself, and find someone to spend a night with. He’d let Molly set him up with all manner of nice boys, even considered signing up for a matchmaking service - that was how Oliver had found his husband, apparently, and honestly, Harry could see it, Merlin knew his former captain didn’t have time for anything but Quidditch - but decided against it, since that wouldn’t have been fair to whoever he’d be set up with, because after everything and against all odds, he was still head over heels for Bill Weasley.

Then had come yesterday, the day of Hermione and Luna’ wedding.

Harry still wasn’t, quite, sure how those two worked together, but apparently age had stabilised Luna and mellowed Hermione enough that they’d fallen deliriously in love. And as was tradition when any Gryffindor (gay, straight, or anything in between) got married, the ceremony had been followed by one hell of a party. 

Harry hadn’t been drunk, no - he didn’t like being out of control like that - but the elderflower wine one of Luna’s cousins had brought for the wedding had been strong enough that he’d been a little fuzzy at the edges, but in a good way. Which was probably why he’d said yes when Bill asked if he’d wanted to dance. 

Sober Harry would have had more sense than to say yes. But then Sober Harry would have missed out on the feeling of being held carefully in Bill’s arms as they waltzed around the floor to something slow and classical Hermione’s Mum had probably picked out. Sober Harry wouldn’t have been able to luxuriate in the scent of Bill’s cologne, sandalwood and spices, feel the muscles in his arm flex under his dress robes, be warmed by the heat coming off of Bill’s body as they danced. Sober Harry wouldn’t have - when he realised the dance had ended and they were standing in a deserted alcove, Bill’s eyes so very blue in the light from the candles and his plush mouth right there - leaned up and kissed him. 

And Merlin, what a kiss.

Harry had been kissed before, by girls and blokes alike, and not a single one of them came close. Bill’s mouth was soft and warm on his, and after a moment’s stillness he angled his head just right and it had been like electricity sparking between them as Bill took control of the kiss. One large hand tangled in his hair, Bill licking into his mouth as he pulled Harry close.

When they finally pulled apart for air, Harry was relieved to see Bill breathing as hard as he was. “Home?” Bill rasped, his tone leaving no question what he was asking.

Sober Harry would have said no. Sober Harry would have realised that kissing his ex-girlfriend’s older brother and one of his best friends was an incredibly stupid idea. Sober Harry would have realised there was no going back from this.

But Harry hadn’t been sober, and so he’d looked Bill in the eye and breathed back, “Home.”

And now it was the morning after and Harry was in Bill’s bed wondering what the fuck happened now. Last night had been amazing - Harry had the ache in his arse and the marks on his neck and hips to prove that - but he didn’t know if Bill would regret it, if things would be awkward and uncomfortable between them now.

His panic spiral was interrupted when a pair of too-blue eyes blinked sleepily open, then immediately snapped wide awake. “Harry,” Bill breathed. “That wasn’t a dream, then. Shit, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have taken advantage-” 

“Bill,” Harry interrupted. “I kissed you, remember?” 

“And I should have said no,” Bill replied. “You were tipsy, and I should have brought you home and put you to bed in your own bed, but fuck, Harry, been wanting you for months now.”

That had Harry staring at him. “Wait, what? You - you want me?” 

Bill ducked his head and blushed. “Yeah. Gods, felt like a right arse, but you came back all gorgeous and tanned and it was like a bolt of lightning. And then we started living together and I thought, right, no quicker way to nuke a crush, but it just got worse, because you’re funny and sweet and kind and amazing.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Harry asked.

Bill shook his head. “Didn’t want to make things awkward. I did try giving hints, though. Like wandering around the flat shirtless. Or asking you if you wanted to come to the club.”

Harry groaned. “You were driving me crazy with that, you know. All that gorgeous freckled skin just begging to be kissed. And I thought you were just being nice, inviting me to the club - which was hell, by the way, watching all those gorgeous blokes flirt with you.” 

“Oh, I promise you, it was worse for me,” Bill told him. “The number of times I wanted to bodily haul you away from whatever random wanker who wouldn’t appreciate you like I did…”

Harry blushed at that. “So… what happens now?” he asked. 

“Now? Well, right now I really want to kiss you again.” Bill laughed at Harry’s look. “More seriously? Now I ask if you’d like to go on a proper date with me, and this Sunday we’re going to show up at the Burrow and everyone’s going to laugh at us for being such idiots, and Mum’s going to welcome you to the family, like you’re not already a part of it.” 

“That sounds amazing,” Harry said, because it did. 

Bill grinned. “I’m glad, sweetheart. Now come here and kiss me. We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.” 

And Harry did. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> fabulous_but_evil's prompt:
> 
> For my "queerness in the wizarding world" request, I'm interested in:  
> -are wizards more or less progressive than muggles?  
> -is it simply assumed that everyone is cis and straight or do even cis and straight people have to "come out" because no one assumes anything about anyone?  
> -is queerphobia a thing?  
> -what is the lgbtqia+ wizard community like?  
> -is marriage equality a thing? how easy is it for trans people to change their name and to transition?
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone! I'm 


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